


Visions

by pedrowrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pedrowrites/pseuds/pedrowrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melisandre looks into the flames and sees more than she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visions

Asshai was a dark place. The streets were dark, and every attempt to light them, be it with torches or by magical means, was ineffective. The buildings were dark, made from oily black stone old beyond count. Even the people had a dark appearance, most covering their faces and avoiding eye contact with others. Travellers from Westeros to Yi Ti rarely spent much time in the city, and some sailors even commented on how the soil was cursed and that staying there drove people mad from the gloomy surroundings.

“ _They will never understand_ ” Melisandre thought, while pacing around the port area. She wore her usual crimson gown and a hood over her head. The ruby at her neck radiated heat, though it did not burn her. She could see the trade cogs from the Free Cities, bringing food and water supplies to the markets, while loading crates full of gems and amber. The last was collected from the Forest of the Dead, where rotting trees were covered in amber; and what a magnificent sight it provided for the red priests, who gathered there to pray to the Lord of the Light. The amber around them glowed while the fire burned, and it has been so since the Faith of R’hllor came to Asshai, and it will continue to be likewise until the end of time.

The Shadow City’s port was not like the any others’. There were no seagulls, and trade was done silently, as quickly as possible. The only noise came from the creaking of the decks. The Ash glimmered at night, its green phosphorescence illuminating the banks of the river and the ships’ hulls. Melisandre could see some fish swimming by, white and deformed. She had never eaten one, but from what she had heard, they _definitely_ were not appetising.

She turned on one corner, just as an ebony palanquin passed by, carried by slaves clad in black cloth. At one side of the street two hooded men chatted with gruff voices in a language the priestess could not comprehend. As soon as they noticed her coming, they ceased their talk and glared over her, obscure eyes filled with malice. She paid little attention to them. Sometime later, she came across an old man; he wore a yellow robe and his beard was dyed blue. Sobbing over a monkey’s body, he shook its little body and stared at the ones around him in confusion and helplessness. _Fool_.  Animals did not last long in Asshai. Neither did children; when slaves were brought to The Shadow, buyers made sure they were fully-grown. Well, not all slaves. _Melony, lot seven_.

The thought made her shiver a little. It was the darkness, bringing dreadful memories and trying to break her down. But she needed to be bold; after all she was a servant of R’hllor, a devoted soldier in his army. And war was coming. She had seen it in the flames, corpses gathering in the night, swords made of ice swinging and slashing through mail and leather, fingers grasping for safety as they froze and decayed.

Melisandre stopped over the doorway of the Red Temple. She knocked thrice and spoke in High Valyrian, “For the night is dark and full of terrors.” She did not to wait long, for the door swung open almost immediately. The doorkeeper greeted her: “But the fire burns them all away. Welcome.” She headed straight to her chambers, where the fires awaited her. Candles burnt on her room, three next to the bed, two on each wall, and one above the bed table. On the centre, a brazier brought warmth and upon its sight it made her eager for visions. R’hllor had been blessing her with sights of the present, past and future more frequently in the past few weeks, and she could not help but to feel it had some purpose. She was eager to prove her valour, to help the Lord of Light in his war against the Great Other. Maybe this time she would see more clearly, and understand what her role was.

Melisandre stared at the blazes, watched as they danced and twirled, took shape and crackled. She could see a man, a man that stood as tall as a king; in his hand, a lance. No, not a lance, a sword, a sword as red as the flames around it. The priestess frowned. Could this be… could he be who she was thinking? She took a step back, mouth gaping open in amazement. Then she returned to her task, asking, _begging_ , for more glimpses of the man. _Azor Ahai_ , she knew deep down in her heart that it was him. Now she could see that he was encircled by statues, statues that taunted him and seemed to fade. _False gods_. Was Azor Ahai being deceived by false gods? Was that her task, turning him back to the way of truth? “Show me where he is, so that I can help him”, she spoke to the fire, and then she could see it: a crowned stag, standing over stone dragons. Then all turned to nothing.

Melisandre sat on her bed, astonished. She would have to do some research. That stag, the stone dragons… it had to mean something. Visions did not come as clearly as one might want, so it was the duty of every priest of R’hllor to understand the language in which these glimpses of truth came. But Melisandre knew she would succeed. She was the chosen one, she of all others, to aid Azor Ahai in his journey. She closed her eyes and thanked her God. She smiled, and she had never smiled so brightly in many, many years.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey! Fourth fic!!! Thanks for the kudos on the previous ones :P
> 
> Also, I hope you liked this one, it was super fun to write!!!


End file.
